


Tim Stoker: Archives Hero

by makesometime



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Adding Sasha back in because she should have been in the liveshow, Awkward Crush, Crush at First Sight, Developing Friendships, Dogs, F/M, Jon and Tim and Sasha are friends, M/M, Pre-Canon, Pre-Relationship, TMA liveshow, Tim and Martin go on a doggo hunt, Tim senses Martin being a gay disaster and helps because he's a good boy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-26
Updated: 2020-07-26
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:06:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25527145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/makesometime/pseuds/makesometime
Summary: Martin Blackwood sets a dog loose in the Archives on his first day. Tim Stoker is a soft touch and helps him find it, building friendship and trust along the way.(Or: Tim recognises that Martin has a crush on Jon before Martin does and helps him save face in the midst of a mess of the doggy variety.)
Relationships: Martin Blackwood & Tim Stoker, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Sasha James/Tim Stoker (implied)
Comments: 13
Kudos: 86
Collections: HeyItsGee's Favourite AO3 Works!





	Tim Stoker: Archives Hero

**Author's Note:**

> As soon as I finished the liveshow episode I was overcome with a desperate need to write something where Tim agrees to take on the task of telling Jon about the dog poo because Martin would have been in the middle of an absolute breakdown over doing so. 
> 
> (Rated for swearing because this isn't a publicly available podcast and the Archival Assistants are allowed more than one swear a season.)

Martin Blackwood comes striding back into the Archival Assistants’ office just as Tim is in the middle of some deep consideration of quite what to make of him. 

They'd shared only the briefest of introductions earlier ( _taller than him, sweet and genuine and nervous all at once, as abiding of the dress code as Tim is himself - which is a massive check in the 'likeable' column_ ) before Sasha’s snap decision to go fetch coffee from the good café down the road as a nice ice breaker and Martin's disappearance with a suspiciously stifled excuse left him with no one to conspire with and nothing else to do.

Work would have, for once, been a relatively welcome distraction but Jon hasn’t seen fit to give him any yet. And, knowing how much the man is panicking internally about the precise requirements of his new spooky role, it could be tomorrow at this rate before any suitable distraction presents itself.

Hence. Martin. Marto. The Martster.

Sweaty, flustered, beet-red Martin Blackwood standing just inside the doorway of the office with wringing hands, anxious face and darting eyes that are undeniably looking for something.

"What's wrong Marto?" 

The man jumps, not expecting to be interrupted from his fretting. Running an unsteady hand through his hair, Martin exhales slowly through his nose. Tightens the hoodie around his waist. 

"Have you seen. A dog."

"Oh! Is that what that shadow in the hall was? I thought it was just your run of the mill Magnus Institute spook." Tim drops his feet from the desk and stands, moving closer to the other man. "How did a dog get in here?" 

Martin's face falls, his eyebrows drawing together mournfully. "Can we skip over that bit?" 

Tim battles the urge to squeeze the man's shoulder. No point in crossing boundaries this soon into knowing him. "You got it. Let's start in the kitchen, it might've gone looking for food."

Martin follows him out of the room with a look so painfully grateful that Tim can't stop himself from wondering what the hell happened to the poor man since he last saw him.

#

They don’t find the dog in the kitchen, but they do hear a jingling of collar nametags from somewhere deeper into the building that draws them in an awkward half-run down the hallway away from the main offices.

... Only there’s no joy there either and eventually it becomes apparent they’ve utterly lost the damn dog. 

They pause to catch their breath in the dingy hallway that leads to the storeroom. Tim leans up against the wall, taking a moment to adjust the cap on his head back to being suitably _jaunty_.

As good a time as any to get to know Martin, he supposes.

"Did you meet Jon yet?" 

Martin squeaks, pushing his glasses up to rest on the top of his mop of hair and scrubbing a hand over his face. 

"Ah, that's a yes then."

When Martin eventually looks at him, there's an intriguing pinkness high on his cheeks. "Can we skip over that too?" 

"Mm, no you used _that_ special ability once today already." Tim grins, sensing a thread here to tug on. "How bad was it? I know he's a bit of an ass at first but he softens up pretty fast."

Martin sighs with too much weariness for someone still relatively new to this place. "I asked him if he'd seen a dog and he asked if I meant _in general_."

Tim snorts. 

It earns him a dry look. 

"That… sounds like Jon." He ventures.

Martin opens his mouth, but no sound comes out as the man stumbles over which of the many thoughts in his head to put voice to.

"Is he always so…"

"Sharp?" 

"No."

"Obtuse?" 

"No."

"Handsome?" 

Martin squeaks again. It's frankly _adorable_. 

"No! What?" 

_Bingo._

“Marto.” Tim says as consolingly as possible. “It’s alright. We’re none of us immune to the grumpy professor aesthetic. Even Sash has admitted as much and her type is… well.” He pauses, lifting his chin proudly. “Very different.”

Martin’s eyes widen for a moment. “Uh. Okay?”

Tim taps the side of his nose and then draws his finger in an x over his chest. “Secret’s safe with me. Cross my heart.”

There’s absolutely no reason for the other man to trust him, but there’s something so utterly charming about Martin that Tim, for his part, means what he says entirely. 

Anything Martin might follow up with is cut off by a shriek from further down the hallway. Without speaking they both rush off back towards the main office, finding Sasha standing just inside the doorway with a cup holder hoisted comically high above her head as she stares at…

“Oh _fuck_.”

Martin pushes past him to see what’s happened and then Martin.exe stops working, the poor thing completely bluescreening at the sight of a very happy Spaniel puppy sitting at Sasha’s feet with a little brown pile a ways behind it.

“Tim??” Sasha stiffens at the feeling of him slipping his arms around her waist and guiding her away from the… _incident_. “What the hell is going on?”

“Nothing, nothing everything is fine! Have a seat, drink your coffee, we’ve got this.”

“I don’t trust you.” She says, perching on the edge of his desk regardless. “Looks like a dog shit in the Archives and you and Martin seem particularly unsurprised by it.”

Tim beams, tapping her on the nose. “And that’s why Jon asked for you on his team.”

Her eyes narrow. “Still not sure why he asked for you.”

Clutching his heart, Tim staggers back a few steps. “You wound me, Ms James.”

That, at least, earns him a smile, which he takes as permission to turn back to their newest comrade. The other man is crouched down by the doggo, ruffling its comically large ears, eyes fixed on the gift the little thing left them.

Tim crouches down too, because he’s not a monster and the dog _is_ adorable. “Well, we found it.”

Martin turns wide, desperate eyes on him. "Tim. Tim please. Tim I can't go back in there. He'll fire me and I _need this job._ Please."

"You want me to tell Jon that a dog shit in his newly precious Archives?" Tim asks, as if he's not already resolved to do just if only to stop Martin from expiring on the spot. "I guess I can. Only because it's you."

Martin flushes, but he smiles too, and that's enough of a win.

"You're a hero."

"I am. And you owe me. You're going to get to play with the dog while I interrupt the bossman with bad news."

"At least he _likes_ you."

"Oh, most of the time anyway." Taking a chance, Tim squeezes Martin’s elbow and then pushes to his feet, looking over his shoulder at Sasha. She mouths ‘ _tell me later_ ’ at him, as if he isn’t going to spend a good hour recounting this particular escapade. 

“Sasha, would you help Marto get this lovely doggo back to its owner? I have a message to deliver to Mr Spooky.”


End file.
